


nests far away

by scionblad



Series: the village atop the hill [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Flash Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 14:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12559892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scionblad/pseuds/scionblad
Summary: Genji is at university. Hanzo is at home. Home is far away.





	nests far away

**Author's Note:**

> for frame of reference: genji is 21, hanzo is 24.

“You have a brother?” The girl put a hand over a perfectly o-shaped mouth. “What’s he like?”

Genji laughed. “Uptight. Stingy. He wears his hair long like he’s some samurai.”

“A samurai?” She laughed. “That’s cool, though.”

“Not as cool as a ninja!”

She rolled her eyes at him, but he could tell she was still into it. He bought another drink for her, bright pink and fragrant, and a shot of whiskey for him. It was late, and he knew he had a morning lecture tomorrow with an exam he hadn’t studied for, but he savored the burn in his throat and tried to forget. The alcohol ran warm down the back of his neck, and the girl’s smile seemed brighter in the haze.

“You’re right though,” Genji said, slumping on the bar counter. “My brother  _ is _ a cool samurai. The best archer, swordsman, martial artist, anything you can name.”

“You’re not doing so great at selling yourself to me,” said the girl, eyeing him.

“Maybe not,” said Genji. “But I don’t need anyone to sell me. This”—he gestured to himself—“does all the talking, you know? My brother, on the other hand, he’s awful with women. Doesn’t know what to do with them if they even told him straight out. One time,” he said, straightening up, “I took him karaoke with my friends in high school and he didn’t sing even once!”

They both laughed, foolishly. Who went to karaoke and didn’t sing?

He held the door of the bar open for her, and they staggered out, still laughing meaninglessly. She led him back to her place, where he slipped a hand under her dress for a moment before she passed out on her bed. In mild disgust, he left. It had probably been a bad idea to buy her the last drink, but he had her email address written on the back of his hand, so he could probably try again another night. She was most definitely into him, and he wasn’t about to let that go.

It was warm—the weather for this time of year had been unusually summer-like, as if the season was clinging onto the last vestiges of life before it gave way to autumn. He sat down on a bench and let his head roll back so that he was looking directly at the sky. It was nice. A dark blue, almost black, but light enough that he knew the sun was coming soon.

He took out his phone— _ (5) missed calls from: Big Brother. _

_ Did something happen? _ he wondered. He felt a little bad that he had missed so many calls, so he tapped the screen, and waited for the call to connect.

Three rings, then a click. “Genji!”

Hanzo sounded like he’d just woken up—not in any sluggish, still clinging to sleep way, but in a sat-up-straight-in-bed-sweating way. Genji coughed at the sudden rush of pressure in his throat and chest. “Hi, brother,” he croaked.

“You haven’t called home in weeks,” Hanzo said. “Father was getting worried.”

“Yeah,” said Genji, thinking of the past weeks he’d spent drinking and throwing up and forgetting he even had a father who lived far out on a town atop a hill with cherry blossoms in the spring. He ran a hand through his hair. It was greasy and needed a good wash.

A slight pause. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” he said. There seemed to be two of his right hand, though it was getting better. Hanzo’s uptight voice was sobering him up, he thought, and chuckled to himself.

His brother sighed and muttered something lost in the crackle of the sound data. “Well,” he said, more clearly, “as long as you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re studying and everything?”

Genji thought of the exam tomorrow. Maybe he’d skip that class and take a makeup test. “Yeah.”

He could almost imagine Hanzo pressing a finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “If you say so,” he said, disbelieving.

“Yeah.”

“You’re doing all right, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you call home?”

He wanted to drink again, then. Not sake, that one tasted too much like home. Maybe whiskey. He liked how strong it was.

“Genji?”

In any case, he had to give an answer.

“I forgot,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, but not entirely untruthful either.

“You always forget,” said Hanzo. He was starting to sound like their mom. Genji stared back up at the sky.

The sound on the phone shifted, like folding cloth. “Genji, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Hanzo’s voice cut through the haze of alcohol. There was no  _ Father said _ or  _ the elders said _ here. Just Hanzo.

He fought the sudden wetness in his eyes viciously with two swipes of his palm, left, right. When he spoke again, his voice was miraculously steady.

“I know, brother.”

They hadn’t spoken so frankly in years. He was sure that when he woke up the next day he would forget everything, but for now, he held on to those words that assured him he wasn’t alone.


End file.
